Clynn for the Win
by Weavillain
Summary: A series of Clynn one-shots for Clynn Week 2019. (Cover art is a commission that I requested from UnderratedHero)
1. Kissing

**A/N:** Oh, lookie here. Looks like you've got another Clynn story collection from yours truly. Only this time, I actually have plans on finishing it. So, what's this one all about, you might ask?

See, a pretty snazzy fellow by the name of Petrus Visagie (you can look up him up on his Twitter page or dA page to see some of his wicked cool art) started something called Clynn Week. From January the 6th to the 12th of this year, fans of Clynn are invited to draw or write stories based on the theme of each day during that week. And, of course, I couldn't pass up the chance to take part of this. So, since I'm mostly finished with all the chapters for this anthology, expect to see daily updates from the 6th to the 12th about everyone's favorite Loud House crack ship. ;)

By the way, if you want to know about the themes for the week, again, check out Petrus Visagie on either dA or Twitter for more information.

Oh, and if you're reading this P.V., thanks for doing this, my man!

* * *

 **DAY 1 – KISSING**

In terms of weather, this Saturday was one of the best ones Royal Woods had experienced in a while. The warmth of the Sun wasn't overbearing, thanks to the calm wisps of pleasant wind that breezed through the air. It wouldn't be out of the question to say that today was the perfect day for playing outside, especially if the people saying it were kids with all their homework and chores finished.

So naturally, as he made his way to his best friend's house, Clyde couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending all day inside with Lincoln.

While the outdoors certainly held their treasures, the innards of an Ace Savvy comic book and the rigors of playing _Muscle Fish: Minnows at War'_ s most challenging levels called to him like a siren.

Clyde's steps must've been lighter than usual—an errant thought that came across the back of his mind along the way—for by the time he knew it, he was just a few feet away from walking along the sidewalk in front of the Loud residence.

' _Look out, Lincoln. Hope you're ready for some fun with your good 'ol pal-'_

" _ **CLYDE, HEADS UP!"**_

Clyde's reaction to that loud voice was instant—as his nerves raced and his heart began to spasm from nervous fright, his body practically moved all on its own as he squeezes his eyes shut, pivoted on his heels to his right, and extended his hands out in a last-minute bid for protection.

His arms were already shaking from the strain of panic, but the sensation tripled in a sudden burst as something solid and circular collided against his palms. His jumped back with squeak, but tightened his fingers around the object all the same, keeping whatever had been sailing towards him in his sweaty grip.

His heart rate started to climb back down when he sensed that the danger had passed, and upon slowly opening his eyes, he could see that even better. But before he could bother to inspect the object, he immediately spotted none other than Lynn running towards him, her ponytail swishing and bouncing playfully behind her as her radiant smile shined as brightly as a sunlight's golden ray.

For whatever reason, he could feel a little tingle of fuzziness worming around in his gut as he focused on it, but there was little time to dwell on it.

"Yooooo, way to catch that ball, McBride!" Lynn called out to him before she eventually approached him.

Her words coaxed his curiosity, compelling him to look down and see a soccer ball in his grasp. When he looked back up, Lynn was already in front of him. He had his manners in mind, and aimed to thank Lynn for the compliment.

"Gee, thanks, Ly-"

"I mean, you've never struck me as the coordinated type before," Lynn interrupted casually as she swiped the ball from Clyde's hands and tucked it under her arm. "Guess you learn something new everyday, am I right?"

Clyde sighed. It wasn't like Lynn to hand out compliments without tacking on some kind of barb at the end, whether she meant it or not. Still, at least he was used to it enough to not get too offended.

"Uh...y-yeah," he fumbled out awkwardly. "I guess that's true."

Without seeming to notice his sheepishness, Lynn asked, "Anyway, I guess you're here to geek it up with Stinkoln, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Suddenly, Lynn's lips cranked into a sour frown as her eyebrows formed angry downward slants.

"Good luck hanging out with him right now. Lola and Lana got to him before I could drag him into some soccer practice," Lynn said, her bitterness seeping out like an open wound. "They've been pretending to be astronauts for almost half an hour now."

Whether Lynn knew it or not, she had given Clyde some food for thought about how he had acted before he even stepped out of the house. He hadn't even done so much as called Lincoln before he came over, operating on the assumption that he wasn't busy with anything else.

He couldn't help but feel disappointed—conveyed from the way his shoulders sagged and he heaved a heavy sigh—but he couldn't say that he wasn't opening himself up for that.

"Guess I came at the wrong time, huh?" Clyde asked, as if he needed to.

"'Fraid so."

For a moment, neither said a word. And in that time, something funny must've crossed through Lynn's head like a whizzing arrow—Clyde couldn't think of any other reason why she was suddenly donning a cheeky grin at him.

"Plus, Lori's at the mall, so good luck trying to make moves on her. Not that it'd work out if she was here, anyway."

The accusation caught Clyde off his guard and made his face flush from indignation.

"H-hey now, I wasn't gonna-"

"Sure, Clyde. Keep telling yourself that."

Clyde could only mumble under his breath and look away as Lynn laughed at his reaction, her merriment making her double over at the knees. Eventually, she collected herself and gave him a quick, light jab in the shoulder, forcing him to look her in the eye again.

"But you know, now that you're here, I've got a great idea that can help the both of us."

Clyde raised his eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, since I can't hang with Lincoln right now, I've been dribbling this ball and kicking it around to pass the time. But, it's gotten kinda boring just playing around by myself. And since one of the members of the 'Dynamic Duo of Dorks' is busy, it looks like your afternoon of comic books, video games, and LARPing is on the bench for a little bit."

"Actually, I wasn't planning on doing any LARPing today," Clyde corrected.

"Whatever. The point is, you can scratch my back while I scratch yours."

She took a second to lean in and firmly rest her hand on Clyde's shoulder, as if she was about to start a pep talk.

"Those wicked reflexes of yours can't go to waste," she continued, "and I need something a little more stimulating than dribbling. So, why don't you be my goalkeeper while I try to kick the ball past you and into one of my goals? Doesn't that sound like fun?"

The proposal was nothing that Clyde hadn't heard before, but it still made him regard Lynn with a dubious look. After all, he may have heard them before, but they were always directed at _Lincoln_.

"What? You want _me_ to be _your_ goalkeeper?" he asked.

Lynn shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

It wasn't his first option for passing the time, but he wasn't going to be a chooser while he was nothing more than a beggar. The problem of accepting it, though, came at the thought of his fathers and their conventions regarding his safety and well-being.

"I mean, last time I checked, being a goalie can get pretty messy, what with all the falling," Clyde said. "My dads'll throw a fit if I come back home with grass stains and dirt all over my clothes."

Lynn shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. They can't be _that_ bad, can they?"

"You're only saying that because you don't know them too well. Last month, I came home from school with one of my shirt buttons undone and one of my shoes wet from a puddle I stepped in. They thought someone had mugged me and were gonna call the police."

Clyde would've laughed at the stunned silence and look of frightened awe on Lynn's face if he didn't share her uneasiness. As much as he loved them, his dads could get a little out of hand from time to time.

"Point...taken," Lynn said slowly, looking like she was still struggling to come to terms with that revelation.

But her stupor only took hold of her for a few seconds, much to Clyde's surprise.

"Well then," Lynn began, as if she hadn't heard anything Clyde had just told her, "I guess you can borrow one of my soccer jerseys and a pair of my shorts. We're practically the same size, so it shouldn't be a problem."

As Clyde took a moment to let her proposal settle, she asked, "So, you in or not?"

By the time she finished, he couldn't say that he had any resolute conviction on turning her down, even if the idea of getting sweaty and tired wasn't the best idea.

Then again, it _was_ a pretty nice day—the time he took to think things out gave him the chance to relish the pleasurable breeze and warmth on his skin. And now that he thought about it, he and Lynn had a funny way of bonding over the most unexpected things. Their love of hacky sack and sriracha were only a few things that capped the list, and most of it came from experiences that she had introduced to him.

Why couldn't soccer be any different?

"Alright," Clyde said with a grin. "I guess there's no harm."

"Great!" Lynn exclaimed, lifting her hand off of Clyde's shoulder and giving it another jab. This time, Clyde let out a whine of protest as he rubbed his aching arm.

Just how was he supposed to be a good goalie if she kept hitting him like this?!

"I'll get the goal from the garage," she said, turning to leave. "You wait out back for me."

As soon as she went on her way, Clyde followed her but only when she was outside of punching range. She could call him a "geek" or a "nerd" all she wanted, but she couldn't call him a "slow learner".

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Clyde found Lynn running at him again. And just like last time, he had her soccer ball in his grasp.

The journey to this point had involved a lot of falling on his end, and a lot of encouragement on _her_ end, but he eventually found his stride. Now, he could say that he had managed to block six of Lynn's best goal attempts in a row. He was a little out of breath, but he still managed to wear his pride on his sleeve as heavy as the dirt and grass that singed in the fabric of his borrowed clothes.

She finally approached him with her arm stretched up, her hand above her head.

"Up top!" she cried, and smiled even wider as he did so. "Man, you're a quick learner. Those last few catches weren't too bad."

Clyde dropped the ball and smiled bashfully as he rubbed at his arm, as if he had gotten a hundred apology punches. Getting dragged into the spotlight of her praise was little more than he could handle, and it inspired Clyde to try and deflect some it back to where he deserved it belong.

"But I gotta say, Lynn, that trick about staying on the tip of your toes is really effective," he said.

Lynn let out a chuckle. "Of course, it is. It came from _me_ , didn't it? And besides, it's just common sense. Planted feet make for slow adjustments. You can't move to where you wanna go very quickly if you're fighting against your own body."

She had a point, but on a more profound level than she realized. He had his feet planted in one area today, but allowing himself to be more flexible let him move towards a fun session of soccer and an even better appreciation for Lynn than ever before.

He would've told her as much, but a loud diatribe from the upper floor of the Loud house caught both their ears.

" _ **THAT DOES IT! THAT'S THE LAST TIME I'M EVER PLAYING ASTRONAUT WITH YOU, LANA!"**_

Lola's shrill shouting, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut, filled them in on enough of what had just transpired.

"Seriously?" Lynn asked with a sigh at the end. "When are they _not_ gonna be at each other's throats over their pretend games?"

"Beats me," Clyde said. "I suppose they'll never-"

But he couldn't continue, not when he saw the traces of disappointment that etched in Lynn's long face. Where they came from was anyone's guess but he knew that he'd hear out whatever was troubling her.

"Well, I guess that means Stinkoln's free to hang out with you now. Guess that means you're gonna head on over and-"

"Nah."

Clyde's response was just as immediate as Lynn's reaction—she looked up at him, her cheeks swelling from the big smile she wore. That tingly worm sensation came back in his gut again, then slithered up to his chest to force his heart to race.

"Yeah, I'm having fun where I am now. Stinko-" He caught himself mid-sentence and blushed when she giggled. "I-I-I mean _Lincoln_ can wait."

He couldn't ask himself where that slip-up, let alone the fluttery feeling of butterflies in his tummy and chest, came from before Lynn stopped his train of through before it could leave the station. Her cheeks suddenly reddened, and her smile glowed just as brightly as her face.

"Well, well, well, someone's quite determined, aren't they?" she asked, inching ever closer and unwittingly letting Clyde to get lost in her eyes."But, uh, you're looking a little tired there, Clyde."

The ball slipped from his lax fingers when his arms drooped his sides—the feeling of one of Lynn's rough hands cupping his face melted his bones into jelly.

"I think someone needs a little pick-me-up," she whispered, then closed the distance as she brought her lips to Clyde's cheek, pressing them softly against his skin.

His breath rushed into this throat with a sharp gasp, his body (namely his face) buzzing and burning from crackling heat. The kiss lasted for only a second but it felt like an eternity before she pulled away and regarded his dazed state with a cocky smirk.

"Hey, now, what's this?" she asked in a teasing voice. "You better quit daydreaming before a soccer ball comes your way and knocks you out."

* * *

With that, she picked up the ball and strutted back to her spot thirty feet away from the goal and from the boy whom she recently thought, in the right light, could be cute enough to kiss.

At least, when no one was looking.


	2. Training

**DAY 2 – TRAINING**

On the cusp of a Spring Sunday afternoon, the hijinks between Cleopawtra and Nepurrtiti kept Clyde's attention as he laid on his bed on his belly, watching them in amusement as they rolled around and play fought by his laundry hamper.

The hallway outside his room had been their battle zone before the action spilled into his vicinity, their interspersed meows breaking him out of the concentration he had been dedicating to his play session with his Snap before the interruption.

It wasn't an inconvenience in the slightest. Who needed video games when the simple pleasure of watching his adorable little furbabies playfully romp about was way more relaxing and less of a strain on both his eyes and his patience than his pixelated misadventures ending with the dreaded "GAME OVER!" screen pounding down on his self-esteem with each failure?

Presently, Cleopawtra was teaching the newcomer a thing or two as she pinned the kitten down, her eyes glinting triumphantly as Nepurrtiti struggled to break free. Clyde loved them both equally, but not even he could let his bias for the underdog (or under _cat_ , as Luan would probably say) pass.

' _C'mon, Nepurrtiti. You got this. Show Cleopawtra what fo-'_

"Clyde?"

At the sound of one of his father's voices, the boy looked up at his open doorway and caught the familiar sight of his dad's dark red hair and buck-toothed, chipper smile.

"Yeah, Dad?" Clyde asked.

"There's someone here to see you," Dad replied.

His choice of words tipped Clyde off to the fact that the visitor wasn't Lincoln. Otherwise, he would've been mentioned specifically by name, just like always.

In the end, he was proven right when Dad added, before he left, "Don't worry. We made sure to give her the proper vaccinations."

Clyde dwelt on the word "her", and immediately thought of Stella. Was she coming by for an unexpected visit?

' _Naaaah,'_ Clyde thought decidedly. ' _She doesn't even know where I live.'_

That made the prospect of it being Girl Jordan or Mollie just as implausible, given how they were in the same boat. But just before he could go over any more options, distinct grumbling slipped through his ears. He didn't even need to see her stop by his doorway before he could figure out who it was.

"Lynn?" Clyde asked to himself.

Sure enough, none other than his guess appeared by his open doorway, though she didn't acknowledge him by looking him in the eye.

"Hey, Clyde," Lynn muttered crossly as she looked at the floor, her left hand tenderly rubbing the bicep of her right arm.

Clyde knew the root of the problem immediately, and he instinctively slipped into a sheepish grin as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Uh...sorry about that," he said. "It's a really bad habit of theirs."

"I'll say."

The awkward silence that followed was almost tense enough for Clyde to forget to ask the million dollar question.

"So, what brings you here, Lynn?"

A flicker of confusion crossed Lynn's face as she gave Clyde a befuddled look. "Um, hello? Did you forget already?"

Besides the mountain of studying and homework that had been occupying his mind for the last few weeks, almost as much as spending time with Lincoln and daydreaming about his oldest sister, he couldn't recall anything that had transpired between him and Lynn for her to show up at his house.

"Forget what?"

"Softball practice. You wanted me to give you some personal coaching after you asked me to give you some pointers. Since I'm not doing anything right now, I'm here to deliver."

Clyde facepalmed and shook his head at his slippery mind. _Now_ he remembered. Softball had always been one of his more obscure hobbies, but all it took was one morning of his father Howard reminiscing about his glory days as his high school's baseball MVP to inspire him to see if he could match his dad's potential.

So, he had gone to the only person he felt would give him the coaching he needed shortly afterwards.

"Oh right," Clyde said. "I'll go grab my gear. It should be enough for the both of us."

But before he could slide off his bed and close the door to give himself some privacy for changing, he paused mid-stride as another unattended matter came into his focus.

"I'll also need to tell my dads where I'll be going," he said. "Once, I made the mistake of not telling them that I was going to check the mailbox for a package."

"What happened?" Lynn asked.

"They were gonna round up the neighborhood watch for a search party."

The last thing Clyde saw, before he walked over to his door to shut it, was Lynn gawking at him as if he had grown a second head. He'd only say it to himself, but it was the funniest thing he had seen in quite a while.

* * *

Lynn's mood was considerably better by the time they got to the empty baseball diamond a few blocks away from Ketcham Park. Clyde figured that she was just happy to be in her element, but a part of him felt flattered at the idea of her taking vested interest in training him, even more than she probably already had.

As far as he was concerned, Lynn was strong enough to bench press entire planets if she really put her mind to it. For someone of her acumen to give him the time of day, instead of wowing the masses with her talents of pushing herself to newer heights, was as gratifying as...well, nothing that he could honestly compare to any recent experiences.

This was something new, but exhilarating above all else.

Lynn led him to home plate and put down their duffel bag of sports equipment by her side. Taking out a slender, silver baseball bat and a red batting helmet, he handed off the gear to Clyde.

"Okay, so I figured that the first thing we should cover is how you stand behind home plate," Lynn said. "Just do what you normally do when you go up to bat."

After slipping the helmet on and gripping the bat tightly in his hands, Clyde did what came naturally to him and did as he was asked.

Though, based on the disapproving glare that Lynn was shooting at him, he must've missed out on an important detail.

"Okay, no. Just...no."

Clyde knew better than to think Lynn's deadpan annoyance equaled physical harm, but he still couldn't help but feel a little shaken up by her sudden shift of expression.

"Huh?" he asked.

"All of this that you're doing?" Lynn gestured her hand up and down Clyde's posture in a sweeping wave. "It's wrong."

"All of...what?"

"Your stance, Clyde. It's weak."

Whether she knew it or not, she was battling against a strong habit that no one had bothered to question before. Before he could consider what to say next, he had already jumped to a flimsy defense.

"What's wrong with my stance? I've always played like this."

"So? I'm here to tell you that it's wrong."

"But I-"

"Who's the coach here, Clyde?"

Whatever objection Clyde had died on his lips as his stubbornness gave way to shame. Lynn didn't come all this way to hear him question her methods before they could even begin, especially when all he had to his name in softball achievements was a measly trophy he won last year.

Who was _he_ to throw his weight around, as if she had something to learn from him?

"You are," Clyde replied with a sigh.

"Thank you."

He was about to apologize, but he paved the way for whatever Lynn had to say to him next once he saw her opening her mouth.

"Look, balance is the most important principle of any sport you play. I don't care if it's basketball, lacrosse, or football. Not having any balance is about as good as going out on the court with a broken leg. Don't believe me? Ask Paula."

"Uh...who's Paula?"

Lynn shook her head. "Not important. What _is_ important is giving you proper balance. And, as your coach for the day, I'm gonna help you."

Before he could think about what requirements Lynn's guidance entailed, he was taken aback when she crossed into his personal space by stepping directly behind him. The steady thrumming in his chest increased two-fold, and the warmth of the Sun suddenly felt hotter on his face. He mindlessly swallowed, as if to calm his nerves, but it was all for naught at what Lynn did next.

Without warning, her hands formed an iron clasp on his hips, the contact making him rigid and sweaty. That dang heat on his cheeks flared up again, and Clyde was wondering why the bill of his helmet wasn't keeping the Sun from making him feel hotter. To make matters worse, the smooth, low voice of her words buzzed in his ear like a fleeting tickle, and the calm wind blew wafts of her hair's sweet scent into his nose.

"Your feet are in a good position," Lynn said lowly, "but your hips are out of line."

With a sudden jerk, she twisted them in a slight angle, his body following along with the turn.

"There we go," she said with a proud smile and gave Clyde's back a firm smack after pulling her hands away. "Much better. Now then, when I start pitching balls at you, make sure that you don't forget this stance. Got it?"

Clyde nodded. "G-got it."

He watched as she bent down and zipped the duffel bag open, obviously in search for a mitt and softballs, oddly entrapped by...just about everything about her in the moment of what she was doing.

The color of her eyes, brown as the muddiest earth but somehow clearer than that.

The angle her tongue stuck out through her slim lips.

The freckles that dotted the tiny hills her puffed cheeks made on her face.

The slope of her smooth neck that her ponytail almost veiled from his sight completely.

Overall, his wandering thoughts could only point to one inevitability—whether he knew it or not, his newfound fascination for Lynn was on its way to resembling the one that he had for Lori.


	3. First Date

**DAY 3 – FIRST DATE**

At last. Silence.

Lynn thought she deserved as much on her ride to her favorite sandwich shop in town, but Lori seemed to have a different opinion—given how, for the first ten minutes of their drive, she couldn't help but keep her big, fat mouth open and let loose air-headed conclusions that no one asked for.

 _Especially_ not her.

But Lynn knew Lori too well to think the respite would endure another minute longer. She had been scowling while looking out the window after her sister's last barb ticked her off, and she didn't see the need of gazing away from the passing streets to look at her sister's reflection through the rear-view mirror—it was obvious that she was stifling a giggle with an unrepentant, goofy smile, just waiting for the right time to drop another load on her.

Lynn let out a miserable groan, knowing that those stupid jokes from Lori weren't the kinds of noxious outbursts that she could roll down the window for in a desperate bid to keep them from suffocating her. Nope, she was in for the long haul, whether she liked it or not.

' _I should've just taken the bus,'_ she thought with another long moan. _'_ _Bus drivers aren't half as annoying as this.'_

"You know, Lynn," Lori said at last, sounding too giddy for Lynn's liking. "I-"

Lynn bared her teeth, having an inkling what was coming. "Don't even think about it, Lori."

"Oh, come on, Lynn. You can't just-"

"Don't."

"But I-"

"Say."

"You shoul-"

"Another."

"Try to-"

"Word."

What felt like the beginnings of a migraine started to creep up through Lynn's skull, rattling her brain around as her face began to angrily flush. What was so dang wrong about wanting to munch on a foot-long sub? Did Lori honestly think that she needed her oh-so "insightful" commentary to foul things up before they could even start?

"Clyde's gotta be excited."

Lynn shut her eyes and hissed. Apparently, commentary was _exactly_ what she thought was necessary.

Not that she should've been expecting anything less.

"Y'know, since a cute girl like you asked him out on a-"

" _ **AAAAAAAAAAAH!"**_

Her bellow was mostly on instinct—she was hoping that Lori would take the hint and just shut up already, but her veiled threat seemed to do nothing more than inspire an uproar of laughter.

"Lori, for the last stinkin' time, this is _not_ a date!" Lynn cried, peeling her face away from the window and boring holes through the driver's seat with her heated glare. "Seriously, it's not! What part of that don't you get?!"

"If you say _sooooooo_ ," Lori sing-sang as she took a moment to look back and wink, the perfect gesture to pull off when stopping behind a red light.

Lynn just folded her arms and slunk in her chair. "Seriously, you let it slip that you're trying to thank a guy for helping your brother not flunk History by buying him lunch, and _somebody_ has to think it's a date."

Her pouting consumed her attention, letting her miss out on the way Lori's face slipped from jovial amusement to tenderness.

"Okay," she said, "so if you don't mind me asking-"

"I'm pretty sure I will."

Lori sighed and looked back on the road. "What exactly is so bad about one teeny-weensy date with Clyde?"

Lynn's head reeled back from whiplash of astonishment. Lori, of all people should've known what the problem with that prospect was.

"Oh, I dunno, how about the fact he's not my type?" Lynn asked, before she addressed what she felt was the true heart of the matter. "And since when are _you_ one to talk? It's not like you've ever wanted to date him."

"Yeah, except I've got a boyfriend and a wide age gap that would literally make that impossible. Last time I checked, you don't have any of those excuses."

In Lynn's mind, she had picked a sturdy hill to die on. But all it took was one precise prick into her words to make her realize that she had been standing on nothing more than a bouncy castle that was susceptible to such precision.

And much like a punctured bouncy castle, her vigor started to deflate.

"Well yeah, but...b-but I..." Lynn fumbled out, wanting nothing more than the ground to swallow her up right now.

But in the end, it was confusion that reigned over her embarrassment. Where had all of her conviction gone? She might've been wrong to think that Lori could've related on the last point she brought up, but she still had to have been right about Clyde simply not being the guy that she'd work up the courage to ask out.

So why wasn't that card up her sleeve for her to use? What, did all it take for her to reconsider her stance was the fact that she could concede to the notion of Clyde being...a little easy on the eyes?

That she admired his loyalty when it came to her brother?

That she looked forward to his visits because it meant she had another buddy to either pass the hacky sack to or someone to spot her as she lifted weights and beamed as he looked on her in awe?

That she sometimes thought that it'd feel good to have the less creepy sides of his infatuation with Lori to pass by _her?_ Just for a little bit? Just enough to make her feel as pretty as her older sisters?

The last thought made her cheeks flare with red, and she tried to convince herself that her hunger for some food was making her see things that weren't there.

Like the idea that Clyde McBride wasn't completely repulsive in terms of her tastes in boys, that the possibility of him rejecting the idea of a date between them was what was really bothering her, and that Lori was unintentionally rubbing salt in that wound with her teasing.

"Look," Lori said, unwittingly interrupting her little sister's deep thinking, "I'm sorry about all the teasing, okay? I guess I got a little carried away."

Lynn narrowed her eyes in a hard squint. "A little?"

Lori huffed exasperatedly. "Okay, fine, a lot."

"Pssh. You got that right."

"For real, though," Lori continued, "this is really sweet of you to do for him."

As much as she tried not to, Lynn couldn't help but puff up with pride a little. It might've been a little self-centered to think highly of oneself when doing someone a kindness, but she couldn't help herself. After all, it was her idea to make something happen for someone special like Clyde, and no one else bothered to-

Lynn's eyes widened, her last choice of words coming back to slap her across the face. "Someone special like Clyde"? Where the heck did _that_ come from?

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Lori's following words knocked her off her stride completely:

"But FYI, just know that if this _was_ a date, I'm sure he'd be happy."

Did...did she seriously just hear those words come out of the mouth of the girl who'd been pined for by Clyde for years? In what world did she have a ghost of a chance at standing out in the eyes of someone who had already made up their mind about who they considered to be the pinnacle of beauty?

And most importantly, what was she going to do about her doubts and the fact that they bothered her more than they reasonably should've?

' _It's just your stomach messing with you, L.J. A chicken club with spicy mayo and banana peppers oughta knock some sense into you.'_

* * *

Hmph. What a load of baloney _that_ turned out to be.

Lynn couldn't knock a good meal when she tasted one, especially since Clyde was minding his own lunch with the happiest grin on his face that she had ever seen…

...but in a sense, _there_ lied the issue. She knew he was satisfied with himself, in part because of her kindness, but it only made her muse over how far he'd be willing to call this…outing that she had initiated as a date.

Would he frown at the idea? Throw up at the sound of it? Laugh it off like some big joke? Ask her what spirit possessed her to think such foolishness? _Lori_ didn't seem to think so:

" _But FYI, just know that if this was a date, I'm sure he'd be happy."_

In her big sister's eyes, the only thing that kept her from thinking so was...herself. Not like that was fair of Lori, the object of Clyde's infatuation, to think or anything.

Lynn looked across the table, watching as her dat... _friend_ kept his mouth busy with his BLT. If Lynn was going to put her doubts to rest, _this_ would be the time to do it—maybe getting her first words out would be easier without those doe eyes of his churning her insides up like butter.

"Clyde, can I ask you something?"

She was surprised when she managed to get the words out without stumbling, but she cursed her luck at the tinge of color she could feel creeping up on her cheeks as he swallowed and gazed up at her.

So much for trying to be casual.

"Sure," he replied with a smile.

Welp, no turning back now. Lisa could've probably helped her out if she ran out of the shop and asked her to whip up a time machine super fast so she could go back in time and prevent her from asking.

But she found herself not wanting to go down that drastic route or anything that would be saner but just as effective. If she had the courage to play against a team of hulking jocks in her brother's stead, than she could get passed this.

…

Just as soon as she remembered how to speak.

"If...i-f this was a... _date_..." She shut her eyes to give herself purchase, wanting to avoid Clyde's immediate reaction to the d-word, "...would you mind?"

She couldn't see, but she could hear just fine—everything from her heart hammering into her ribs like a hammer to the idle conversations of nearby patrons drilled into her head, but not loud enough to avoid the sound of uncertainty that came out of Clyde's mouth.

"Uh..."

Lynn wanted to nothing more than to melt into a puddle and evaporate into hearing that. That was the sound of someone trying to consider their words, as if they wanted to soften the blow of the rejection that was sure to follow.

But no matter how bad it would feel, she wouldn't let herself look like a pathetic mess by crying, even as her eyes began to burn from behind her eyelids. She'd keep it together through the pain, just like with any of the injuries she had accumulated from her game.

"...n-no."

She wouldn't cry, she absolutely wouldn't give Clyde something to write home about, or her name wasn't…

Huh?

Lynn slowly opened one eye and could've sworn that she was peeking into a mirror. Minus both eyes of the reflection being opened and it resembling Clyde more than her image, it matched her blush, her timidity…

...perhaps it even reflected the deep-rooted feelings that she was still trying to put together?

"Seriously?" Lynn asked, her other eye slipping open.

"Of course, I wouldn't mind. I mean, don't get me wrong, Lori's a goddess among women and everything..." Lynn couldn't ignore the flicker of annoyance that passed by her at hearing Lori being propped up on a pedestal for the umpteenth time. "... you're pretty fun to be around. Plus, you're strong and funny and cut-"

He clamped his hands over his mouth to keep himself from saying more, and regarded Lynn with an expression of sheer horror. Lynn was too surprised (both by his reaction and the word he was _this_ close to finishing) to be offended that Clyde would think that she'd chew him up and spit him out for giving her a few compliments—heaven forbid that a boy tell her that she was cute for once.

"S-sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean to step over the line like that!"

"No, no, it's okay!" Lynn replied.

Their outbursts had earned the snickers of passerby, but that only measured up to a tiny percent on why Lynn was as flustered as she was. A boy that she conceded wasn't gross and was somewhat in her sights was not only about to call her... _cute_ but that a date between them wouldn't be the most horrible thing in the world.

"Thanks," she said, and felt the need to return the favor of compliment. "You're not bad, either. Sure, you'd kind of a dork, but that doesn't stop you from being a really good friend."

She would've added more than that, but doing anything in the vein of appearance-based compliments would've probably made her burst.

And besides, if she could judge the flattered smile on his face, she'd say that she did a good enough job, anyway.

…

But had she? Perhaps in the department of letting Clyde know that she found him a decent catch, but in making their feelings official by giving their jaunt more significance? If he was willing to say that he wouldn't mind their lunch together a date, why wouldn't she push the envelope a little?

In the end, it wasn't like _she_ minded the idea of this being a date, either.

"Look, I know this is gonna sound really weird and stuff, but..." Lynn took a deep breath to forge her resolve. "...I wouldn't mind hanging out with you a little longer. In fact, I'd be willing to call this a date."

As she saw his eyebrows raise and his eyes widen, she quickly added, "If you want."

"But...but why?"

"Look, I'll be honest, there are probably at least three guys I could think of that I'd rather go out with...but it's just like I said before—you're not bad, either."

To call Clyde a fourth-string prospect felt a little swallowing cod liver oil, but she didn't allow guilt to consume her. Besides, he was sure to remind her that Lori was still the apple of his eye.

"'Sides," she continued, "nothing's gotta happen after this. It's not like a date means I have to marry you."

She'd stick to her guns on that one no matter how bad it made Clyde feel, not that she suspected that it would. Him being kinda cute, quirky, and nice was not a worthy equivalence of a lifetime commitment.

And based on how Clyde had laughed at her remark, she could tell that she felt the same way.

"So...do you wanna give it a shot? Maybe go to the arcade or to a movie after this?"

She had a feeling that she already knew the answer, but that didn't stop her from feeling a little over the moon when he predictably replied, "Yeah. I would. It'd be my first date, but I'd love to spend it with you."

She let him finish the rest of his sandwich in peace, trying her best to hold in the excited jitters she felt swarming over her. She'd have to get over the feeling eventually, though.

After all, she couldn't text Lori, tell her all about her first date, and let her know that she didn't need to be picked up until later with shaky fingers.


	4. Genderswapped

**DAY 4 – GENDERSWAPPED**

So far, the happiest Loud of the day just so happened to be in the bathroom in nothing more than his undies. He didn't mind, though— _t_ _his_ was totally worth waiting to be last in line for the bathroom.

With no need to hurry up and get out before one of his brothers broke the door down and dragged him out or Linka called one of those lunkheads over to break the door down and drag him out, Lynn Loud Jr. could get properly reacquainted with his new best friend.

The bathroom mirror—only _it_ could reflect the bulges in his biceps in all their glory.

Oh, and everything else about his body, too.

He didn't know why it took so long for him to finally start noticing just how developed his physique had gotten over years of exercising and working out like a madman, but all it took was one quick look into the bathroom mirror a few months ago—after taking a cold shower like all the best athletes do—for him to realize that…

Hey, he was actually kinda hot. _Niiiiiiice._

His arms and legs were like sculpted pottery of a master craftsman, lithe and refined. His six pack and obliques protruded just enough to leave an indent between each slab of muscle. His pecs could bounce up and down with the best of them, no doubt a gesture that could make _all_ the ladies swoon at the sight of it.

And as fate would have it, he'd finally get the chance to show off at Aloha Beach in just a few hours. Dad was right to organize the trip, though he did more for his favorite son (he wouldn't name him after him if he wasn't) than he realized.

He could see it now—stepping out the beach locker room in nothing but his crimson swimming trunks would make everyone's heads swivel.

And by everyone, Lynn meant _everyone_.

The ladies would look on in lovestruck awe while the fellas would try and tamp down their jealousy from boiling over.

Except for his brothers—they would be supportive and cheer him on from the sidelines.

…

…

Nah, they'd be jealous, too. Yes, even _Loki_ would give him the stink eye. He maybe have had Bebe, but she was just one babe. By the end of the day, he'd probably have ten cuties wrapped around his little finger. It'd put a big dent in his eldest brother's pride to see his so-called "squirt" of a little brother one-up him like that.

Lynn smirked. ' _Now that would be awesome.'_

But just like the gains that came with a killer workout, he couldn't afford to jump right in without a little warm-up first. He'd start small at first, but he'd be the resident stud muffin at the end of the day.

And thanks to the insistence of Linka, such a warm-up was gonna be accompanying his family.

' _Look out, Clair McBride,'_ he thought as he turned around and admired the ridges of his back muscles. _'This gun show's gonna be coming your way! Let's see you drool over Loki with these bad boys in your face!'_

* * *

Nothing, not even the rough, coarse texture of the hot sand crunching underneath his soles could keep the smug grin off Lynn's face. His choice of wearing a thin, gray hoodie proved to be a little uncomfortable, too—his skin was crisping under the heat of the Sun, and the fabric wasn't giving him any ventilation.

Still, Lynn had his reasons. As he made his way over to his objective, weaving past beachgoers who were sure to give him the attention he was looking for soon enough, he went his scheme in his head once again:

He'd casually stroll up to Clair, strip off his hoodie, and smirk with satisfaction as she either fainted on the spot or gazed over his bod in dazzled wonder.

' _C-can I...f-_ _f_ _eel your arms?'_ he imagined her stuttering with the most starstruck smile on her face, and he'd be more than happy to accept her admiration.

That, he figured, was totally worth putting up with this discomfort.

Through it all, he only endured trekking through the sand for about a minute before he could see the top of a multicolored beach parasol, divided up into slices of magenta and yellow, in the distance. He knew that was Linka's, meaning that his little sister had to be nearby.

' _And where Linka is, Clair is sure to follow.'_

But upon approaching the spot within twenty feet, he had quickly realized that his assumptions were half-correct.

Linka was nowhere to be found, either around the parasol or underneath, but Clair...oh, Clair was there alright.

Except she came into a view in a way that made Lynn stop dead in his tracks, his mouth hung open in disbelief while his eyes glassed over from astonishment.

Was it him or was Clair actually...kinda cute?

Like, _really_ cute?

He never gave her looks much thought before, not even when she was nearby him as she rode in Vanzilla on the trip to Aloha Beach along with him and his family.

But that was before she unwittingly decided to give him a feast for the eyes by gracing his vision with her yellow two-piece swimsuit-clad figure. Her limbs were on the scrawny side, but the subtle peaks of suppleness in her thighs, calves, and arms more than made up for it.

And that that didn't even take her choice of attire into account. Even under the shade of the parasol, the bright yellow contrasted wonderfully against her dark skin, making what was already an enticing visual even more appealing.

Even her focused gaze, as it peered into the book she was holding out in front of her, was addicting to watch from afar. What would he do if they scanned over him with just as much attention? Lynn didn't know for sure, but he had a guess that it would melt him into stammering puddle and...and…

' _Hold on! This isn't right! I'm the one who's supposed to sweep her off her feet! I'm the stud here! Sure, she may be a cute nerd, but...this is still Clair we're talking about! You can't get all jelly-legged over her! FOCUS!'_

Giving his cheeks a few hard smacks, Lynn inhaled deeply and rushed forward with more pep in his steps. In no time at all, he closed the distance, standing right outside the parasol. As luck would have it, Clair hadn't noticed him yet.

Good. That would've ruined the element of surprise.

As surreptitiously as he could, Lynn began to strip himself of his hoodie, forgetting that he was supposed to call Clair's attention _before_ he did so. His motions were awkward as his fingers fumbled about, pulling the zipper down in jerky bursts—the erratic beating of his heart wasn't making the simple task easy to manage, and his waning confidence made it worse.

But when he finally pulled himself free of the hoodie and let it flutter onto the sand, his vigor was renewed when he looked down and admired the perky bulges of his calves. It reminded him of who he was, and how totally irresistible he was about to be in the eyes of his lucky audience.

Slipping a hand on his hip while raising an eyebrow and grinning, Lynn purred in a low voice, " _Heeeeeeey, Claaaaair~_ "

Her response was to look up, smile and…

...not much else. Lynn had enough composure not to show his bafflement.

"Oh. Hi, Lynn," she said.

' _What?! Why isn't she swooning?! Dang it! No fainting?! No nosebleeding?! NOTHING?!'_

Okay, fine. So Clair was a tougher nut to crack than she let on. No problemo. He'd fix that real quick.

"Sooooo..." Lynn drawled, stretching his arms above his head and slightly thrusting his abs out as he bent backwards a little, "...what'cha up to?"

Alas, not even his innocuous display could get her to start drooling at him. Instead, she just answered him as he hadn't had an effect on her.

"Well, Linka went to get some ice cream, and I'm waiting for her to get back. We're gonna build sandcastles with Leif and Lexx after she finishes her popsicle." She brought a finger up to her lower lip as her face melded into a sudden bout of consideration. "You know what? Now that I think about it, I'm gonna go get some ice cream, too."

"W-wait!"

Lynn's eyes widened as a fiery blush washed over his face, his reaction as sudden as it was embarrassing. He hadn't tried to sound so uncool and desperate, but his body sprung into action the second he thought his chance had slipped away. The only saving grace was that Clair's face bore an inquisitive look instead of one of mockery.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Uh..." His arms fell to the side as he looked back at her, helpless to resist her charm or find the words to keep her around and preserve his dignity. "Well, I-I was...you see, t-the thing is-"

"Lynn?" Clair's brow furrowed with worry as she placed her book by her side. "Are you okay?"

Instead of more babble, his throat shut up on him completely, only allowing air to pass through his body. The tightening sensation coiled down into his stomach as he watched her stand up, step out from under the parasol, and close in on him.

"You look a little red," she said and brought her palm up to cup around his forehead, the little brushes of her deft fingers racking his spine with shiver-inducing tingles. "Are you coming down with a fever?"

He was coming down with something alright—a severe case of "eyesbehindthebackofyourhead-itis". He was self-conscious to his surroundings, hoping that his siblings weren't around to roast him hotter than the Sun over how the tables had turned, and that he was the one being put on the spot instead.

But then, the paralyzing contact ended as Clair suddenly pulled her hand away, acting as if his skin had suddenly turned to bone-chilling ice.

"Yikes!" she cried "Or maybe you're sunburned, and I just made it worse by touching you!"

Her panic was all it took for him to snap out of his stupor. "N-no, you're fine!"

Immediately, Clair heaved a heavy sigh of relief, her hand clutching her chest. Though, she still looked apprehensive enough not to take his word with absolute certainty.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

It was right there and then that Lynn sensed his chance to redeem some cool points. Here was Clair, vulnerable and shaken up by his supposed ailment. This was his chance to dazzle her by showing off just how durable he really was.

He took a stance with his arms folded, his proud smile as cocky as it had ever been.

"Pfft! Of course, I am! I'm Lynn friggin' Loud! It's gonna take more than a little sun to make me buckle!"

And now, he thought, was where his efforts would pay. In just a few seconds, Clair would not only be admiring his outward appearance but the look of his manly fortitude to boot. He could feel it, smell it in the air like the smoky scents of Dad's open-grilled delights—any second now, she was gonna−

"Well, okay then."

'... _huh_ _?'_

The almost indifferent tone of her reply scalded him like frigid tidal wave, shrinking his bravado down several sizes.

"I was just gonna say that if you needed some shade," she continued as if his self-esteem hadn't just been put through the ringer, "we could wait for Linka under my parasol. But since you said that you're fine, I guess you'd rather go and-"

"Actually…!"

If his arms weren't frozen at his sides, Lynn would've smacked himself in the face for putting his foot in his mouth yet again—it also would've helped him hide his raging blush.

"I mean...actually, I guess I could use a little rest," he finished with a sheepish grin.

Clair hid her mouth behind her hand as she giggled. "Okay."

Before he could make a move, she had slipped back under the parasol and sat back on her long, purple towel. She crossed her legs, then patted the empty space between her thighs.

"Here," she said warmly. "You can use my lap as a pillow, if you want. You'll probably be able to see the water better if your head's elevated."

Lynn swallowed and nodded slowly as she slowly approached her, drawn to the invitation like a moth to a flame. He didn't spare his thoughts much scrutiny, allowing his desire to auto-pilot him without questioning anything.

Like how on Earth that Clair, of all people, was making his head feel funny and his knees so weak with nothing more than that pure smile of hers.

Before he knew it, the back of his head was right where he wanted it to be. The feeling of her smooth skin against his neck and ears was like heaven, and it was a wonder to him that she couldn't pick out his inner thoughts with his flushed face and his dreamy smile so close to her—it didn't help that he was looking right at her instead of at the ocean.

"Oh, and speaking of water, if you need any, don't worry." Clair pointed at the large, open cooler right next to them and laughed. "My dads made sure that I have enough to last for weeks."

Conversation fell by the wayside after that. Clair returned to her book—one hand holding it while the other twiddled its fingers through Lynn's hair—while Lynn smiled and shut his eyes, her touch and the sound of the peaceful waves soothing his nerves. Had he kept them open, he would've had a chance to spot a certain white-haired girl closing in on them from a distance, dropping her grape popsicle in shock as soon as she caught them in the position that they were in, squealing excitedly, then running off to find her oldest brother so that she could borrow his phone and take pictures.

In the meantime, Lynn was too busy congratulating himself on a job well done. Here was Clair, so enamored by him that she wanted him up close to her.

It was exactly as he thought—she didn't have a chance of turning him away.

…

Although, he was just fine with Clair McBride being his only conquest for the day. In the end, he really didn't need anyone else.

Not that he'd say that to anyone but himself.


	5. Comfort

**DAY 5 – COMFORT**

If there was a little known fact about Clyde, it was his love for animals.

His adoration didn't come close to matching Lana's, but Clyde could go through the longest cat video compilations without getting bored. That counted for something, didn't it?

If not, then he'd rely on his fascination of horses to back up his claim. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about them always drew his interest. Maybe it was the way their manes flowed in the wind as their strong legs kicked up dust in their galloping strides through flowery meadows—something so simple yet so beautiful deserved his attention for at least a few minutes, which was why he couldn't get enough of watching horse documentaries on television.

It didn't matter if they were big or small, brown or black, thoroughbreds or hybrids—there wasn't a horse that Clyde didn't appreciate in some capacity.

…

Well, except for one. Then again, the boy didn't think that there was anyone on Earth who liked _charley horses_.

They were gruesome creatures, not to mention sneaky. They always struck when one least expected it, chomping their teeth right into a calf with brutish accuracy. They didn't discriminate, either—women and children were just as liable to be targets as men.

As the Sun began to fall—slowly draining the sky of its vibrancy—on a Thursday afternoon in Ketcham Park, Clyde had another brush of pain with the beast as it seized his left calf, immediately immobilizing him into a near fetal position on the grass. One minute, he was running around and tossing a Frisbee between him, Lincoln, and Lynn, and the next had him clenching his teeth and moaning.

Lynn was the first to react, telling a concerned Lincoln that she'd take care of everything and that he should take the Frisbee and start to head home before their parents started to worry. Of course, she made sure to mention to let them know that she'd be held up with Clyde just before he left. He was reluctant for only a few seconds before he bid Clyde farewell, taking the Frisbee and his worries with him.

Then, without warning, Clyde found himself lifted up by Lynn's strong arms, slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and whisked away through the grassy fields towards the picnic area. He was too busy hissing from the pain to object to Lynn's actions, but he was put at ease when Lynn said, her tone resolute and reassuring, "Hang in there, Clydesdale. I got ya."

She couldn't see it, but her use of one of his favorite nicknames got him to manage a smile, as pained as it was.

After all, with the exception of one kind, he couldn't get enough of horses.

* * *

Poor Clyde was still a whimpering mess by the time Lynn brought him to an empty picnic table and gingerly laid him across one of its benches, leaving his unhurt leg to dangle to the side

Lynn didn't allow herself to worry, though. Even though she was fresh out of potassium, she still had one of the most surefire ways of beating down any charley horse.

"There we go," Lynn said, smiling despite Clyde's face being scrunched up from pain. "Okay, now for the fun part."

"'F-fun part'?" Clyde stammered in a low groan through his frown.

"Mmhmm."

From there, Lynn went to work. There were a few obstructions that she had to dispose of before she get to where she needed. The first was his shoe. Sitting beside his propped up leg, Lynn held onto the ankle and slid it clean off, not even bothering to untie it first.

Then, her hand moved towards the bottom hem of his jeans. Upon clutching it between her fingers and giving a slight tug upwards, Clyde's eyes burst upon as he thrust his hand out.

"Wait!" he cried, as if he knew where she was going with this. "Won't that make it worse?"

Lynn rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Clyde, trust me, okay? I'm a professional. Just ask anyone in my house, and they'll tell you that L.J.'s got the magic touch."

As far as she was concerned, the fact that he didn't raise another objection was him giving her permission to move forward.

She did so, taking her time and minding Clyde's reactions—any time he'd wince and hiss, she'd pause before shifting the fabric again.

Finally, it was bunched up at his knee, revealing the clenching spasms that gnawed at his calf muscle. They throbbed in small bursts, cinching inward until Lynn could faintly see the outline of his tibia.

Lynn gave Clyde one last look, her heart trembling with empathy at the sight of his pained expression, before she forced his leg to bend up slightly. With ample space between the bench and his calf, she could slip one hand within the space and clutch onto his calf without a problem.

Her other hand was just as active—it was grabbing his foot and pushing it forward, the toes slightly bending from the pressure.

From there, nothing but the call of the birds and the distant laughter of playful children filled her ears. As soon as her other hand started kneading the calf, the hissing and groaning stopped.

It was just as she figured. She couldn't call herself a star player of any respect if she didn't know any self-therapeutic techniques for ailments such as this. Clyde's incident was just a drop in the bucket of experiences she had with patching people up with nothing but her talented fingers.

They were no doubt leaving blazing trails of lingering pleasure in their wake, given the way Clyde's mouth drooped in a sleepy smile.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" Lynn asked with a smirk. "Am I good or what?"

She wasn't really expecting an answer from someone who was clearly sailing on cloud nine, but his peaceful face gave her all the satisfaction that she needed to carry on in silence.

By now, the cramps were relaxed into submission, but Lynn figured she'd go on for at least a few more minutes. Clyde had earned a little pampering after keeping up with her and Lincoln for as long as he did.

At last, she had full confidence that she had mended his leg back to full use. She'd have to let him know to eat some bananas and drink plenty of fluids once he got home—just to keep a potential charley horse at bay—but her job was otherwise done.

She slipped her hand away from his calf, sparing him a quick look as she did so...

And found him dozing off.

Lynn surely wasn't accounting for that, but this wasn't something that could throw her for a loop. She _was_ pretty good at this, after all.

Still, there was the matter of getting Clyde home. Waking him up and sending him on his way seemed cruel after sending him to dreamland. That could only mean one thing to Lynn, and the realization forced her to shake her head and laugh.

"Looks like I gotta carry him over my shoulder again. Oh well. It's a living."

And quite frankly, it was a living she could get used to. Besides, it would make for a good workout.


	6. Dancing

**DAY 6 – DANCING**

As it turned out, being stuck under a mountain of homework on a Sunday afternoon _wasn't_ the worst thing that could happen to Clyde McBride, despite grumbling the opposite as soon as he woke up and realized what he was in for.

Had he been anywhere else but at his desk, furiously scribbling together the one thousand-word book report that was due in two days, he wouldn't have been able to hear something as important as his walkie-talkie crackling to life as a message pierced through the speaker.

" _Hello? Clyde? Can you read me?"_

Clyde came to life, dropping his pencil as he bolted out of his chair, dived into his bed, and flung his sheets and pillows every which way to get to the walkie-talkie.

Without even waiting to grab it, he pressed the button and replied,"Oh, hey, Lincoln. What's up?"

" _I picked up those Ace Savvy playing cards from the comic book store. Wanna come over and-"_

"Yes, please!"

Even with as fast and as enthusiastic as he had said it, it was still an understatement about his real feelings—even at the expense of a potential good grade, taking up any excuse to put that tedious assignment on hold for a few hours was like heaven on Earth.

" _Okay then, Cly..._ _I mean, okay then, One-Eyed Jack. Let's meet in our secret lair in T-minus sixty minutes."_

Clyde gave a salute."Roger that, Ace Savvy!"

He knew that rushing to Lincoln's house wouldn't be appropriate...

At least, not as mild-mannered Clyde McBride. Like any special occasion he was invited to, there was a strict dress code he had to adhere to.

Then again, could it really be strict if he got to dress up as one of the greatest heroes of this or any generation?

* * *

Baseball bats? Check.

Baseball gloves? Check.

Baseballs? Double check.

The confidence to smack any of her noodle-armed brother's pitches out of the park and wow him into silence?

That was the _first_ thing Lynn was sure she had on deck as she made her way out of her room and marched towards Lincoln's room. But despite her preparation, she didn't commit to the simple task of minding her manners. As a result, she didn't even bother to knock on her brother's door, opting to twist the knob and open it instead.

"Look alive, Stinkoln, cause we're about to..."

Her words petered out when she got a good look at the colorfully-dressed lumps sitting on Lincoln's bed, cards laid out in front of them. The sight stupefied her for a few seconds before she remembered who she was dealing with.

That's why it didn't surprise her when, instead of shrinking back in embarrassment for being intruded on in his state of dress, Lincoln folded his arms at her and gave her an annoyed look.

"Lynn, there's this really nifty thing called 'knocking'. Mind trying it once in a while?" he asked.

"Hard pass," Lynn replied, grinning at the comeback she had in store for him. "I'm not about to take advice from the guy who wore his underwear on the outside for his geeky costume."

"I had a tight budget back then, okay?"

Lynn just snickered. "Excuses, excuses."

As much as she enjoyed her little spat of teasing, she couldn't deny that this had taken some of the winds out of her sails. There was no way that she could get Lincoln to budge and invite him to the baseball diamond now that Clyde was here (at least, not in a way that wouldn't get her in trouble with Mom or Dad).

"So, looks like you nerds are busy with your secret meeting or whatever," she said sullenly, frowning as she turned to leave. "See ya."

"Hold up, Lynn," Clyde said.

Lynn stopped and looked over her shoulder to find Clyde grinning at her.

"You could always play cards with us," he explained, gesturing out to the pile of cards. "It'll be more fun with three instead of two. Besides, Ace Savvy and One-Eyed Jack always look out for citizens in need."

Lynn had no choice but to smile, even if Clyde's sweetness was overshadowed by his dorkiness.

"Sure, I guess I can trounce you guys in a few rounds of Go Fish or something." But before she made room for herself on the bed, she made sure to add a very important stipulation. "Just as long as I don't have to dress up like that."

* * *

Lincoln didn't consider himself a sore loser, but the outcome of Go Fish had him feeling a little bitter. In a twist of irony,the one who wasn't clad in Ace Savvy-related clothing was the one who got the win. Regardless, Lincoln could take solace in the fact that despite him and Clyde only sharing three pairs of cards between them, Lynn wasn't gonna fall back on old habits and start brag-

 _ **"AWWWWWW YEAAAAAAAH!"**_

Lincoln groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for _that._

"That's right, chumps!" Lynn leapt off the bed, waving all of her won cards in her hands. "Read 'em and weep! L.J. just took the both of you to the cleaners!"

Before Lincoln could have a chance of reminding Lynn about her promise of being a better sport, she was already in a pumped-up trance and doing the one thing that matched her verbal taunts in the annoyance department.

 _Victory dancing._

Amid the flurry of whooping and hollering cake a plethora of moves, ranging from wild arm-windmills and fist pumping. Lincoln was able to endure that much without feeling his blood vessels popping and his eyes from twitching.

But then, as if Lynn was trying to spite his patience, she got low to the floor in a squat...

 _'Noooo...'_

...put her hands on her knees...

 _'No, no, noooo...'_

...and started thrusting her hips back and forth like there was no tomorrow.

"Ugh! Lynn, come on!" Lincoln shouted, covering his eyes with his arm while his face reddened. "This is a twerk-free zone! Take it somewhere else!"

He didn't take his arm away until Lynn's cheeky laughter, which had been going on the whole time, started to sound fainter by the second. He grumbled under his breath, shaking his head at how things had turned out. He loved his sisters to death, but they could be really embarrassing sometimes—even with someone like Clyde around, who had almost seen it all when it came to his sisters.

Speaking of Clyde...

"Hey, Clyde," he began to say as he turns to his best friend. "Sorry you had to see th... _oooooohhhh_."

One-Eyed Jack was officially out of commission. He laid sprawled on his back, a dreamy smile on his face as his one visible pupil was formed like a red heart. Tiny rivulets of blood streamed out of his nose, dripping off his face and into the bedsheets.

To say that the situation had gone from zero to sixty wouldn't have done this brand new experience justice. Suffice to say, there were more pressing matters on Lincoln's mind:

 _'I just hope that blood comes out of my sheets after I wash them.'_


	7. Grown Up

**DAY 7 – GROWN UP**

A quick jab of the elbow in the ribs didn't do the trick—all it did was make Clyde mumble unintelligibly before he dozed right back to sleep, his body turning to his side and his head shifting against his pillow.

A few finger snaps right over the ear weren't enough, either—Clyde didn't even flinch at the noise.

What came next was a little tamer than the last two attempts, but it still registered as a screeching banshee yowling into his brain.

Even if all Lynn did was harshly whisper right above his face.

"Psssst. Clyyyyyyyde?"

In her wilder years, Lynn would've resorted to more desperate measures of waking her husband up. If the situation called for it, she'd have no shame of slithering the wettest of willies into his ear or blasting the underside of their covers with an F-5 category level Dutch oven.

Clyde could've been grateful for that, but all he could manage to do was murmur and groan like the living dead.

"Uuuuuhhhhh..." he moaned as he furiously blinked his eyes and frowned.

It was as if she knew that he was about to demand an explanation because she beat him to the finish line.

"Baby wants food," she said.

Clyde didn't even have to see Lynn to know what she was doing. He could see Lynn in his mind's eye, sitting upright and protectively clutching her round belly. She was probably using the puppy eyes, too, as if he needed extra incentive to take care of his wife's early morning cravings.

He would've been insulted at the implication, had he not already known about how hard it was for him to get out of bed at nine in the morning for work, let alone at…two in the morning? It was the best guess he had, given that there wasn't a peek of early morning sunlight creeping through the blinds of their bedroom windows.

"Does the baby want food or do _you_ want food?" he asked, rolling over until he could see face Lynn.

As it turned out, his mind's eye was pretty much spot-on.

"Eh..." Lynn drawled through a sheepish grin, "...both?"

Admittedly, she had a point. Had it not been for her skin, muscles, and tissue covering up her insides, Clyde would've assumed that he put a ring on a woman with a literal black hole for a stomach.

"I guess you're not wrong," he said.

Lynn snorted and flashed a smirk his way. "When am I _ever_ wrong?"

Clyde did the same, adding an eyebrow raise for bonus sassy points. "If I had to make a list off the top of my head, the baby would be due before I could be halfway finished."

He chuckled as she shot him a dirty look that she clearly had no venom behind.

"You are so lucky that I can't put you in a triangle choke right now," she said.

"I guess you'll have to settle for glaring angrily at me," Clyde replied, scooting closer and planting a kiss against her hand. "Even if you look super cute every time you do it."

She just rolled her eyes and noogied her fist into his hair, eliciting mirthful laughter. He allowed it, getting as much joy into his system as he could. He knew he needed it soon. No matter how deeply-rooted his dedication for his wife and unborn baby went, there was no way he could ever see himself enjoying the inevitable twenty-minute drive to the nearest convenience store in the dead of February.

He just hoped that her request wouldn't require him to do any cooking.

* * *

So much for hoping.

Roughly one-and-a-half hours of driving, waiting for the cashier to ring up his items, more driving, and cooking ( _uuuuggghhh_ ) preluded Clyde McBride finally returning to the comfort of his bed.

Too bad it wasn't doing anything to comfort the queasy pants that throbbed in his gut.

Watching his wife scarf down one of the most ghastly meals he ever had the displeasure of putting together was even more daunting than putting it together.

Apparently, though, his stunned silence must've passed off for hunger, for Lynn asked him, after gulping down a bite that she swooped off her plate, "Want some?"

"Eh...I think I'll pass. I'm not a waffle and bratwurst kind of guy." Clyde stuck his tongue out in disgust and squeezed his eyes shut. "Especially when whipped cream and powdered sugar is added to the mix."

Lynn shrugged and set her plate off to the side. "Hey, don't blame me. What baby wants, baby gets."

He could live with that, but he was pretty sure that neither of them would want all the fats and excessive sugar that came with such a meal.

Heck, that could apply to all of the early morning cravings that Lynn had been hankering for.

"Yeah, speaking of which, you probably want to get back to the health food," Clyde said. "I know you're eating for two, but this might be going a little overboard, don't you think?"

It was Lynn's turn to gag and frown.

"Uh, no thanks, she said as she shook her head. "Remember when I drank those carrot and beet smoothies you tried to hook me up with a few nights ago? That stuff made me _suuuuper_ gassy."

"Lynn, _everything_ makes you gassy."

"Exactly. So, I might as well enjoy what I'm eating. Is that so wrong?"

"Look, I'm just asking for a little moderation, is all. It wouldn't hurt."

"Oh, quit being a worrywart, will ya? I know what I'm doing. Last time I checked, _I've_ been the one whipping _your_ skinny butt into shape ever since we were kids. I think I know a thing or two about keeping myself healthy, especially when I'm carrying our child."

It was never fun to get checkmated like this, especially now that Clyde realized that he was implying negligence on Lynn's end. He sighed sadly and looked at her with a guilty expression.

"Fair enough. Sorry for getting on your case."

Even in her third trimester, Lynn had enough range in her arms to lean forward and playfully smack Clyde on the shoulder.

"Eh, don't beat yourself up. I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes. 'Sides, you weren't being annoying about it or anything." Her warm smile, along with the lack of malice in her eyes, were even more endearing than her words. "And to be honest, I'm happy with the way you are. I wouldn't trust anyone else to look after our baby with me."

Whether Lynn knew it or not, besides the flattery and relief Clyde felt from her sentiments, she had inspired a conversation that he wanted to get out in the open.

"You know, speaking of our baby, what should the name be?" Clyde asked.

Lynn's brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh? What kind of question is that? We don't even know its sex, remember? We're trying to keep it a secret until its birth."

"Doesn't mean we can't come up with a list of girl names and boy names."

A few seconds of silence pass until Lynn's face brightened up.

"Oh! Or we could just make it easier and go with names that'll work for both a boy _and_ a girl!"

"Hey, now," Clyde said with a smile. "That's a pretty good idea. I guess waffles, bratwurst, whipped cream, and powdered sugar are the optimal brain food combination."

Lynn chuckled, grinning smugly. "And since it was _my_ idea, I get first dibs."

A few more seconds pass before that same streak of brilliance shined through Lynn's triumphant, self-satisfied smile.

"'Lynn the Third'!" She pounded her fist into the open palm of her other hand. "Boom!"

Oh, so _that's_ where Lynn wanted to go. Not that it was a bad idea or anything. 'Lynn the Third' was actually a solid choice, and one that had crossed his mind once before.

Still, there had to be something else out there. Something that could include the both of them. Something like...like...

"Wait," Clyde said suddenly, an idea coming to him. "Why don't we try combining our names together? That way, neither of us have to feel left out."

His proposal left his wife scratching her head instead of immediately accepting. Nevertheless, it was way better than a flat-out rejection.

"You mean like…'Lynde'?" she asked.

"Well...no," Clyde replied. "Not what had in mind."

"Okay then, what _did_ you have in mind?"

* * *

Four months later, Clyde still wasn't an early bird. Still, he had the biggest reason in the world to embrace "three in the morning" sessions with the hugest smile on his face.

And that reason was in his arms—her warbling cries wailed through the night as she was gently rocked in her father's arms, her little gift of light brown hair swaying along with Clyde's movements.

"Ssssshhhh," he cooed, "it's okay, it's okay. Daddy's here now."

Even if she didn't know it now, she'd realize it soon enough. Daddy and Mommy would always be around to take care of her, to watch her grow into a strong, beautiful go-getter that would make them both proud.

But that was for the future. For now, all Clyde needed were the two most important people in his world safe and sound—his wife, Lynn, and their daughter, Clynn.


End file.
